A slight detour

This blog is usually about the kids and how precious they are to us and fill our lives with glory and hope. But there is a big world out there and sometimes, it just has to barge in and shake up the domestic bliss. DR Congo is one of those stories. Eastern Congo - a place and region that M & I had the pleasure and duty to visit several times - is back in the news. In fact, it hasn't been out of the news if you looked. The article below is a straight-talking call to take action and see this is you want more evidence: theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20081030.wcongo1030/BNStory/International/home

Personal solutions?
1 - find out more - go to any of the following: oxfam.org.uk/oxfam_in_action/where_we_work/drc/rankin_exhibition.html
nytimes.com
savethechildren.org.uk
crisisgroup.org/home/index.cfm?id=1174&l=1
hrw.org/english/docs/2008/10/29/congo20093.htm
The Congo Advocacy Coalition - hrw.org/english/docs/2008/07/28/congo19486.htm

2 - talk to people, including our governments; ask questions

3 - ask where things (and if possible, the bits and pieces in things) you buy come from (it might be good for your health and the planet)

4 - remind ourselves to buy less stuff (it's good for peace, the environment, your pocket book)

And no, I'm not going to rush off to DRC this week. I am going to Sudan in 3 weeks anyway...

How we fuel Africa's bloodiest war
What is rarely mentioned is the great global heist of Congo's resources
Thursday, 30 October 2008 The Independent


The deadliest war since Adolf Hitler marched across Europe is starting again – and you are almost certainly carrying a blood-soaked chunk of the slaughter in your pocket. When we glance at the holocaust in Congo, with 5.4 million dead, the clichés of Africa reporting tumble out: this is a "tribal conflict" in "the Heart of Darkness". It isn't. The United Nations investigation found it was a war led by "armies of business" to seize the metals that make our 21st-century society zing and bling. The war in Congo is a war about you.

Every day I think about the people I met in the war zones of eastern Congo when I reported from there. The wards were filled with women who had been gang-raped by the militias and shot in the vagina. The battalions of child soldiers – drugged, dazed 13-year-olds who had been made to kill members of their own families so they couldn't try to escape and go home. But oddly, as I watch the war starting again on CNN, I find myself thinking about a woman I met who had, by Congolese standards, not suffered in extremis.

I was driving back to Goma from a diamond mine one day when my car got a puncture. As I waited for it to be fixed, I stood by the roadside and watched the great trails of women who stagger along every road in eastern Congo, carrying all their belongings on their backs in mighty crippling heaps. I stopped a 27 -year-old woman called Marie-Jean Bisimwa, who had four little children toddling along beside her. She told me she was lucky. Yes, her village had been burned out. Yes, she had lost her husband somewhere in the chaos. Yes, her sister had been raped and gone insane. But she and her kids were alive.

I gave her a lift, and it was only after a few hours of chat along on cratered roads that I noticed there was something strange about Marie-Jean's children. They were slumped forward, their gazes fixed in front of them. They didn't look around, or speak, or smile. "I haven't ever been able to feed them," she said. "Because of the war."

Their brains hadn't developed; they never would now. "Will they get better?" she asked. I left her in a village on the outskirts of Goma, and her kids stumbled after her, expressionless.

There are two stories about how this war began – the official story, and the true story. The official story is that after the Rwandan genocide, the Hutu mass murderers fled across the border into Congo. The Rwandan government chased after them. But it's a lie. How do we know? The Rwandan government didn't go to where the Hutu genocidaires were, at least not at first. They went to where Congo's natural resources were – and began to pillage them. They even told their troops to work with any Hutus they came across. Congo is the richest country in the world for gold, diamonds, coltan, cassiterite, and more. Everybody wanted a slice – so six other countries invaded.

These resources were not being stolen to for use in Africa. They were seized so they could be sold on to us. The more we bought, the more the invaders stole – and slaughtered. The rise of mobile phones caused a surge in deaths, because the coltan they contain is found primarily in Congo. The UN named the international corporations it believed were involved: Anglo-America, Standard Chartered Bank, De Beers and more than 100 [CANADIAN & BRITISH] others. (They all deny the charges.) But instead of stopping these corporations, our governments demanded that the UN stop criticising them.

There were times when the fighting flagged. In 2003, a peace deal was finally brokered by the UN and the international armies withdrew. Many continued to work via proxy militias – but the carnage waned somewhat. Until now. As with the first war, there is a cover-story, and the truth. A Congolese militia leader called Laurent Nkunda – backed by Rwanda – claims he needs to protect the local Tutsi population from the same Hutu genocidaires who have been hiding out in the jungles of eastern Congo since 1994. That's why he is seizing Congolese military bases and is poised to march on Goma.

It is a lie. François Grignon, Africa Director of the International Crisis Group, tells me the truth: "Nkunda is being funded by Rwandan businessmen so they can retain control of the mines in North Kivu. This is the absolute core of the conflict. What we are seeing now is beneficiaries of the illegal war economy fighting to maintain their right to exploit."

At the moment, Rwandan business interests make a fortune from the mines they illegally seized during the war. The global coltan price has collapsed, so now they focus hungrily on cassiterite, which is used to make tin cans and other consumer disposables. As the war began to wane, they faced losing their control to the elected Congolese government – so they have given it another bloody kick-start.
Yet the debate about Congo in the West – when it exists at all – focuses on our inability to provide a decent bandage, without mentioning that we are causing the wound. It's true the 17,000 UN forces in the country are abysmally failing to protect the civilian population, and urgently need to be super-charged. But it is even more important to stop fuelling the war in the first place by buying blood-soaked natural resources. Nkunda only has enough guns and grenades to take on the Congolese army and the UN because we buy his loot. We need to prosecute the corporations buying them for abetting crimes against humanity, and introduce a global coltan-tax to pay for a substantial peacekeeping force. To get there, we need to build an international system that values the lives of black people more than it values profit.

Somewhere out there – lost in the great global heist of Congo's resources – are Marie-Jean and her children, limping along the road once more, carrying everything they own on their backs. They will probably never use a coltan-filled mobile phone, a cassiterite-smelted can of beans, or a gold necklace – but they may yet die for one.

Fofo do...

Sophie can…
· Open the fridge door, wrestle the rice milk box out of the fridge, open said box and pour it in her mouth – and on her clothes;
· Open any door she wants in the house - except the front & back doors (thankfully!);
· Open the catch on the diaper pail;
· Open paint pots and wield a paintbrush like no other;
· Hear that someone has passed gas from across the room, point to him/her and say “excuse me” in the most charming way;
· Drive a fire engine (or so she believes).

What a wonderful weekend!

We had a very busy weekend. M and I managed to go to the 2nd of our season's plays - a one-woman show by Anita Majumdar, called The Misfit. Fantastic actress - she tackles 6 characters - who was also trained in formal Indian dance. Blurb says: "The Misfit introduces us to Naznin, a respected, Canadian born Kathak dancer, with a dark past. After running off with an Indian hotel steward/aspiring pop singer boyfriend (Lucky Punjabi), Naznin is disowned by her parents all in the name of “honour”. In India she finds asylum as a choreographer for a dance troupe that performs classical Indian dance to English MTV pop music at wedding receptions. As we travel through the play, we soon discover that Naznin isn’t the only dancer to fall victim to her community’s hunger for misogyny." Really worth seeing if she comes to your town. Then we ate a tasty veggie meal at a local Ethiopian restaurant (we have many within 15 minutes walk).

Saturday was cooking and preparing for our Night of Dread gathering. Seb made kleenex ghosts - one for each guest so they could identify their main fears and chase them away. I made roast tomato and blue cheese soup - yum, plus we had 2 dips and a large batch of pumpkin muffins. At 4, people started to arrive lugging pumpkins. We soon transformed them into a range of jack o'lanterns. Our French babysitter Alice showed up for her first carving session. No blood was spilled, though the adults did most of the work. We had so many people carving that we spilled out into the backyard (check out our late harvest grapes. I'm thinking of making ice wine!). I love how our "flame" Le Creuset pots look like stove-top pumpkins!

Then at 5.30, we headed out the door with a muffin in hand and everyone (who wanted) had a thermos of plain or spicy (Mexican) hot chocolate. We walked over to Dufferin Grove to watch and walk with the Night of Dread parade. We ended up back at the park an hour later and watched the first bit of the ghouls being chased away by the fire dancers (blazing hoola hoops!). It wasn't cold, but it was getting late so some of us headed back home for the hot food.

Very early on Sunday, M left for Montreal to be a helpful son-in-law. The kids were up at the normal time, so we made more muffins (Dewson St pumpkin muffins are to be recommended). Then at 9.30, Seb's friend Xin was dropped off and we headed to the first of 3 plays that we had given him as a birthday present. Sophie was dropped with the babysitter for a few hours and the boys and I got to ride the front seat of the TTC subway. The production was fine (bit young but they chose it) and Seb got right into the sing-along ,wave your hands bit.

We then spent the afternoon at the ROM with Sophie and 500 other kids and parents. That's where I snapped the archeologists hard at work and the one of Seb befriending a living statue. In that, you can see the ladybird costume he wore all day.

We got home in one piece, had supper and a bath, read books and I still managed to walk out their door at 8 pm.

What a great weekend!

Home life

Seb and I decided that we needed a tree - so we made our own. The hope is that we will make it seasonally relevant. Thus the autumnal leaves which have this week been allowed to fall and gather at the roots. Seb wants to add an owl for Hallow'een, etc.

Loving grandparents

It's 10 days late but over Thanksgiving we went to Ottawa and then Montreal. We did loads in the latter and my parents drew on all their energy for the visit. We went to the bagel factory and saw friends, did the traditional visit to the old Forum, shopped at Atwater Market, made apple juice, roasted what seemed a field of veggies for Thanksgiving supper, read umpteen books, grandfather and grandson poured over maps together, and went to the Botanical Gardens for a magical evening. Yes, we were only there for 2 days but the city just tempts you.

My stylin' family - part 1

M is sporting an excellent Value Village find. Trying focusing on Sophie's outfit - not her self-inked face! Sophie sporting her brother's new backpack.

We love Ottawa and it seems mutual

Goodbye purple car, hello shiny red truck

A family that headstands together...

In case you are wondering, Seb has started a gymnastics class.

Parental pride

If the future of your DNA is not tied to Seb and Sophie thriving, then feel free not to read this post. But if it is, or you don't mind friends bragging about their kids, read on.

I had two lovely compliments about Sebastian today. The first was when I dropped by his gym class at the community centre. Alice takes him on a Thursday morning, and today she also juggled Sophie too (who is signed up to "participate" in January). Seb really wanted me to see him in action. Unfortunately, I missed the time on the equipment but got to see them all lifting and spinning and singing with the "parachute" (a big circular piece of fabric with handles). Afterwards, the course instructor came over and asked if Seb had done gym before. No, I said, but he loves it. Well, she replied, he is really good at it and follows instructions perfectly. Oh gee whiz, shucks, thanks, I said - or something like that.

Later, I picked him up after school. Despite being 6 minutes late, Mme Salmon did not give me an exasperated look and sigh. Instead, she engaged me in conversation about the bonhomme, remarking that he talks non-stop (roll eyes), mostly in French, and where would they be without chatty Seb in the class? But what really warmed my heart (and hence the bragging blogpost) was that she noted that everything interests Sebastian; he is excited by it all and wants to know more. And it's true. He hasn't met a superhero, ballet, force of nature, food group, sport, political party that he doesn't want to know more about/try/etc. That in my mind is one of the best compliments you can give a parent of an almost 5 year old. It's like the time the French doctor who saw Seb at 9 months said that he was "un bebe eveille" - an alert baby. You just get an internal glow and beam at your progeny and the complimenter (and then you slip them a fiver).

Seb has a new cold

It's official; he is sniffing up a storm. So we will have an early opportunity to try out our new found knowledge on how to manage asthma. Yeah.

On another note, we are heading to curriculum night at the school tonight. It's a chance to meet the teacher, see the classroom, find out what the learning objectives are for the year and how to support them at home, etc. Unfortunately, we can only stay for an hour, as we have tickets to the first of our "season" at Theatre Passe Muraille. Now, that is a real "yeah"!

Shock, horror

Sophie rejected baked beans!!! Sebastian lived on them from 15 - 36+ months of age. Honestly, he ate them or fish fingers every other day. Sebastian was in shock and told her that they were sweet - had sugar (you see, he has been listening). I think it was the shape of the beans on her tongue; so we will try again in a week. Milk and soy aren't going very well either; she can tolerate small amounts but there seem to be rashes on her bottom and around her mouth. Nothing major but traces and all we give her are small amounts of soy & milk.

Today is actually the day of rashes. Sophie has the small dots near her mouth. She developed a new diaper rash. And to top it off, she fell off the curb - nowhere near moving cars - and ended up with road rash on and around her left eyelid, and a huge bump on her noggin. Poor sweet.

Her Bad Mother

http://badladies.blogspot.com/2008/10/blood-and-tears.html

Great post over at "her bad mother" - no, that's not me (at least the other parents don't say that within my earshot); it's a great blog on trying our best as parents. The author/web mistress also hosts her bad mother's basement, which is a wickedly good place to unburden oneself anonymously as a woman/mother.

Busy enough this weekend

that M fell asleep on the couch tonight by 8:45...

Friday was very exciting as Sophie ate fish fingers (that's fish sticks for some) for the first time - and there will be many, many more. Her big brother and the family's resident expert gave her some quick tips. That night, I had a fun visit to Value Village to refresh our dressing up box. There is such a great vibe at V.V. around Halloween. Feel free to vote for your favourite, new item!

Saturday, M picked up our new-to-us car (4 doors and black...) We all went to le salon des livres (where Seb & a more timid Sophie met Caillou and I dropped $100 on mostly children's books), Seb had his first soccer session (go Trinity Bellwoods Tigers, go) - and he didn't wheeze, and I had my own afternon out and about.

But the big story on Saturday was "Nuit blanche" - the annual all-night art 'thing' - that's how it is billed. And we had a babysitter!!! and so, went out to soak up the free art exhibitions and street vibe. It was fantastic weather (the low cloud kept the temperature moderate) and there was so much to see - both people and the art. We hooked up with our friends Lisa and Bremner and strolled around and around "our" section (West Queen West) for almost 4 hours. It was great. We hope to take Sebastian to the first part of the night next year. He would love the atmosphere and at "almost 6", I think he would be able to hold his own in an art scene. Whenever we saw something off the mark and off the wall, we would whisper "don't tell stephen" - harper, that is - our PM who wants to and has cut arts funding again and again...

Today, we made ginger cookies, as well as parsnip, leek and ginger soup. We had some friends over with their twin (almost) toddlers and headed to the park. The afternoon was errands and I worked, as my childcare is thin on the ground again this coming week. Tonight, it was bath time and Seb got to make his birthday wish list.

Throughout the weekend, Seb sucked on a cinnamon stick. Not sure what that is about but he likes the taste and the fact that it is tree bark appeals to him.

And that was all about that.